She finished it for him. "A brain in a jar, kept alive by pumps and blood-conditioners and electronic impulses. I'm here to try to keep you sane." George was silent, thinking now in visual images instead of words. A brain in a glass jar, surrounded by fantastic machinery to perform the functions of the human body. And a woman's voice being piped in to him, to keep him from going mad. He'd read about it somewhere--that it had been tried, and was successful up to a point. But the patient had died. He didn't want to die. _I'll try_, he thought loudly. _I'll try like hell!_ * * * * * George Jameson, or the part of him that was in the jar, learned quickly. It was two days before he had thoroughly mastered the knack of thinking to himself, and sub-vocalizing only to others. On the third day he asked Karen for a description of his surroundings. "You're in a glass jar, about the size and shape of a normal human skull case. Leading in through the sides of the glass are several plastic tubes, a jumble of wires, and a thermometer. Attached to all of this is about a hundred pounds of machinery, gauges, and such." _I must be quite a handsome cuss._ "Oh, yes," she laughed. "Quite colorful, in fact. With those chrome-plated fixtures, you cut quite a figure." _You're talking to me, Karen, and you can't hear me. Tell me, is this being broadcast all over the place, or is it strictly a personal conversation?_ "George," she said, "you're somewhat of a novelty. The electrodes that pick up your tiny nerve impulses--the sub-vocalization--feed the signal into a computer-translator sort of thing that changes it into words. Your voice is purely mechanical. It comes through earphones from the translator. Of course, everything we say is automatically recorded." _Is what I think--to myself, that is--is that recorded, too?_ "No." Her voice had that same gentle, understanding quality. "We respect your privacy." _Thanks. I don't guess there would be much I could do about it if you didn't, though._ "I'm proud of you, George. You're taking all this quite calmly." _What have I got to gain by getting excited?_ He could almost hear her smile. "Nothing." _Karen._ "What?" _You said something the other day that made me wonder. You said, "Please get well." What did you mean by that?_ She hesitated for perhaps a fraction of a second. "Professional pride, I guess. And maybe it was just the thing to say." _Oh._ He was silent for a while. _Then these experiments haven't worked out too well in the past._ It was more of a statement than a question. He thought he detected a tightness in her voice. "George, you might as well know. You're the first man to have ever progressed this far without going hopelessly insane." _It's nice to know I'm not hopeless._ Silence. _I'm sorry, Karen. Maybe I talk too much._ "Would you like to hear some music?" Her voice was normal again, soothing.